Clean
by Liathwen
Summary: Sherlock accidentally ends up in Molly Hooper's dorm room. After rescuing her from an overzealous admirer, she makes him a promise. One that he takes advantage of months later.


"Damn!" Sherlock cursed vehemently under his breath. He clutched his leather jacket closer to him and did a little hop, trying to warm himself. He could see his breath in front of him as he stared up at the building, wondering when the hell he had deleted which room belonged to John Watson.

"Oh!" he remembered. Third floor, fourth from the left.

His long legs made short work of the fire escape. He jimmied the window open, making use of the ridiculous flaw in design that each and every window on campus had. Child's play, really.

Sherlock dropped in through the window, his bare feet making little noise. He couldn't remember when or where he'd lost his shoes. It had to have been after he left home, somewhere between the dark street corner where he'd engaged in an illicit transaction with a disreputable character and his arrival at the dorms. His toes were completely numb from the cold and began to burn and tingle painfully as they regained circulation.

"Oh fuck," he whispered, as he crashed into a chair he didn't remember being in his only friend's room. He stopped and took stock of the room he was standing in, his eyes widening in horror as he realized he'd somehow ended up in the wrong room. His glanced over at the desk, and noticed a book with the name Molly written across the front. Sherlock realized with a sinking feeling that he'd picked the wrong building. Instead of breaking into the boy's dorm where John's room was, he'd accidentally picked a female dorm. He was about to turn and climb back out the window when he heard a key turning in the lock. Without a second thought, Sherlock turned and dove into a closet, closing the door behind him.

"Thank you, Jim. I had a lovely time." The female voice was soft, but held a bit of strain to it. Sherlock wondered why and if "Jim" heard it too.

"Aren't you going to invite me in, Mols? It's only polite," drawled a male voice, dripping with arrogance that Sherlock immediately picked up on, even without seeing the boy in question.

The girl sounded uncomfortable as she politely answered that she had an early class and should probably be getting to bed soon.

"Come on Mols, be a sport," the boy replied, and Sherlock heard the door shut. "After all, you owe me for treating you to such a nice dinner and movie."

"Jim," the girl started, her voice pleading. Without thinking, Sherlock pushed open the door to the closet and stepped out, shrugging off his coat and dropping it behind him.

"Hey sweetheart," he drawled, sauntering over to the girl. The boy was shorter than Sherlock by several inches but still taller than the tiny girl. Sherlock's eyes flicked over him, sizing up his opponent. He was pale and slight, even more so than Sherlock, and his eyes were as black as his hair, a stark contrast to Sherlock's piercing blue gaze and tousled brown curls.

The girl though. Sherlock had to concentrate to not drop everything and just stare at her. She was small, her features delicate. Her brown eyes were warm, even though at the moment they had a shocked expression as she looked at him. Her long honey brown hair was gathered into a long plait down her back. Her clothes were baggy on her, and she wore very little makeup. To anyone else she was a typical nerdy girl, but to Sherlock, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

And the prick that was with her was holding far too tightly to her upper arm for Sherlock's liking.

Sherlock casually slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her to his side and out of the other boy's grasp. He held her close, trying not to notice the lemon and strawberry scent of her shampoo. She looked up at him, and he winked at her before dropping a light kiss to her parted lips. He noted her dilating pupils with a smug grin as he pulled away.

"I think it's time for you to leave," he said, turning his gaze to the boy who still stood there.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" retorted the black haired kid angrily.

"Sherlock Holmes, Molly's lover," he said, putting a slight emphasis on the last word, making it sound rather suggestive. Which, to be quite honest, was fine with Sherlock.

The boy looked back and forth between Sherlock and Molly before spitting out a few curses.

"You little bitch," he hissed. "You whore! How dare you.." Sherlock cut him off with a quick twist to the arm, turning his body to press into the door face first.

"Don't appall me when I'm high," he said, earning a quiet gasp from the girl behind him. "Get out."

He opened the door and pushed the boy through. Once on the other side of the threshold, his opponent dusted himself off and glared at Sherlock.

"I owe you, Sherlock Holmes. I owe you a fall." With that, he turned at marched away, his footsteps echoing as he descended the stairwell at the end of the hall.

"Is he always so dramatic?" Sherlock asked absently as he gazed after him.

Molly gave a slight chuckle. "You're one to talk."

Sherlock looked back at her and smiled. "I suppose you're right." He shut the door and held out his hand. "Hello, Molly. I'm Sherlock."

She took it timidly, while tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear with her free hand. "Hi Sherlock. Um, it's nice to meet you."

He beamed at her, but frowned when she moved further from him.

"Why exactly are you in my room?" she asked, looking around and noticing the half open window.

"I was attempting to break into John's room; I needed a place to sleep it off," Sherlock explained, suddenly a bit self-conscious. "I must have picked the wrong building."

She looked at him for a moment before a light seemed to go on. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "Sherlock! You're John Watson's friend, right?"

Sherlock nodded, somewhat confused. He was certain that he didn't know her, but she seemed to be quite familiar with him.

"I had a class with him last semester," she explained, catching his confused expression. "He was complaining," she stopped and corrected herself, "saying, that you'd been away for some time. I think he was missing you."

He let out a short laugh, and nodded. "Yes, I was away all last semester for business. My brother was most insistent."

The girl nodded slightly. "All right. Well it's too late for you to go out looking for you friend tonight. You can sleep here, on my sofa." She gestured towards the lumpy looking piece of furniture and Sherlock pulled face.

"Can't I sleep with you?" he said without thinking, and blushed crimson when he realized what he'd implied.

Molly looked at him for a long moment.

"You may sleep with me when you are clean," she said, turning and disappearing into the bathroom.

Sherlock stood looking after her for a moment before flopping onto the sofa and falling almost instantly into a deep sleep.

The next morning he left before she woke and checked himself into a rehabilitation facility.

- Three months later –

Sherlock slid open the window silently. This time, he was wearing shoes and his signature long coat instead of the battered leather jacket that he'd left in Molly's closet all that time ago. He looked around, noting the small changes in her room and realized that she was out. He slipped over to the sofa and sat, marveling that he'd managed to sleep so well on such an uncomfortable piece of furniture.

He'd thought of her every day since he saw her, using the image of her to help him through the hardest days of withdrawal. He knew she'd thought of him as well, even going to far as to inquire about him when she saw John in the library. John had told him of her blush when she casually mentioned that he'd broken into her room, though she hadn't said anything about the fact that he was high, which he appreciated. John would have murdered him if he'd known. In fact, his best friend still thought that he'd been called away on family business for the three months he'd been gone. Sherlock dismissed it from his thoughts and focused on Molly. He could still feel her lips on his and wondered what the rest of her skin would feel like.

A little less than half an hour later, he heard a key turn in the lock. Sherlock straightened and watched in awe as Molly opened the door and walked in, dropping a heavy bag next to the desk and moaning as she rubbed her sore shoulder.

That moan did things to Sherlock, and he had to shift to relieve the sudden pressure in his trousers. She turned at the slight sound and jumped, letting out a slight yelp as she caught sight of him.

"Sherlock!" she gasped, putting a hand to her chest. "You scared me!"

He stood and quickly made his way across the room to her, wrapping his arms around her to lean down and snog her thoroughly. It took her a moment to reciprocate but then she opened for him, letting him explore her mouth and pull her more firmly against his chest. They broke away from each other when the need to breathe became apparent, both panting as they stared at each other.

"You said, you said that I could sleep with you. I'm clean," Sherlock whispered, searching her face. She bit her lip, thinking it over but Sherlock could see her pupils blown wide and the goose bumps decorating her skin. She nodded slowly.

"I did say that."

With a groan, he pulled her back into his embrace, eagerly stripping her coat off of her. It fell to the floor in a heap and was soon joined by his, as well as both of their scarves and two pairs of shoes. He walked her backwards until her knees hit the mattress. They fell into bed, their lips still joined in passionate kisses as their hand roamed each other's bodies.

Sherlock was the first to find skin, slipping his hands under Molly's blouse slowly, running his fingertips over the soft skin of her belly and up to trace the underwire of her bra. He leaned back and moved to unbutton the shirt, taking the time to press a soft kiss to every inch of flesh he uncovered. She sat up to help him take it off of her, and blushed self-consciously, moving to cover herself slightly. He grasped her arms and pulled them to her sides, making a 'tsk' noise with his tongue.

"Molly Hooper, you are exquisite," he murmured against the skin of her neck before sucking lightly on her pulse point. She moaned and her tiny hands moved to the buttons of his own shirt, gently pulling at them until they slid open. Molly ran her hands down his bare torso lightly before turning her attention to his cuffs, which were a bit harder. She managed after a moment, and he shook the shirt off, throwing it to the floor with hers. He fingered the shoulder strap of her bra, running his hands over the lacy material. She shuddered, seeking his mouth for another kiss as he reached behind her, finding the clasp and pulling at it. He let out a groan of frustration and she giggled.

"Watch," she breathed against his lips. She scooted back a little and slipped her arms out of the straps and flipped the bra upside down before twisting it to where the clasp was in the front and undoing it, letting it drop to the bed.

"That's how I have to put it on," she said, blushing slightly. Sherlock watched hungrily as her dusky pink nipples puckered in the cool air and then surged forward, taking one in his mouth as he rolled the other between his fingers lightly. Molly gave a throaty moan and tangled her fingers in his curls, pulling in a very encouraging way as he suckled her breast.

"Oh God, Sherlock," she moaned, and he grinned against her skin. He slid his hands down to her trousers and deftly unfastened the button and zip, making up for his clumsiness with her bra. Molly lifted her hips to help him as he removed her trousers and then her socks, leaving her in only her knickers. He rubbed her lightly through the flimsy material, noting with appreciation that she was already soaking them in her excitement.

"Fuck," she whispered, pulling him back down for a heated kiss before giving his trousers and socks the same treatment. He kicked them off and lay between her legs, thrusting against her, desperate for friction.

"Condom?" she asked, and he stopped to dig in his trouser pocket for a foil packet. He quickly kicked off his pants and helped Molly remove her knickers.

"Oh God." He slipped his fingers into her wet pussy, rubbing gentle circles around her clit as she arched into his touch. The scent of her sex was heady and intoxicating and Sherlock couldn't resist tasting her. He grinned wickedly and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them suggestively. She reached down to wrap a petite hand around his straining prick and he gasped, letting his head fall back.

Molly slid her hand through her own wetness and slicked his cock with her juices, running her hand up and down, each motion making an obscene wet sound. Sherlock groaned and pulled her hand away after a moment, shimmying down the bed to drop to his stomach and press his lips to her pussy. Molly arched off the bed as he wound his arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he worked her with his tongue, lapping at her. Soon, he let go with his right hand, and moved to slid first one finger, then two into her, pumping in and out of her dripping cunt. Her moans rose in pitch until he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked, making her scream and frantically move her hips against him as her orgasm hit her.

Sherlock continued to lap at her until she pulled him away, wincing with sensitivity. Molly pulled him down, kissing him thoroughly, tasting herself on his tongue. She snatched up the condom and rolled it onto his impressive erection, kissing the tip when she'd finished. Sherlock pushed her back into the mattress and reached to guide himself inside her as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

They both exhaled heavily as he pushed into her, taking four strokes to fully set himself inside her. He stilled, allowing them both to adjust to the feeling before he slowly began thrusting into her. Molly wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close to her as he gently moved within her. Their breath came in short pants as his thrusts sped up and he leaned back to get a better angle. Sherlock lifted her bum off the mattress, supporting it against his thighs as he rocked into her, reaching down to tease her sensitive breasts with his fingers.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and he told her so, his sentence broken by his heavy thrusts. She smiled up at him before begging him to fuck her harder, faster, requests that he had no trouble complying with.

With a cry, Molly sat up, wrapping around him once more as he thrust into her with wildly, both of them nearing their peak. Molly came first, her whole body spasming with pleasure, the walls of her pussy gripping Sherlock's cock tightly. He pushed into her only twice more before he joined her in blissful pleasure, freezing inside her as he came hard, biting down on her collar bone as she screamed his name.

Sherlock eased Molly's body, gone limp, down to the bed and pulled out of her, wincing slightly as he removed the condom and tied it off, dropping it next to the bed. He crawled up next to her, curling his long limbs around her and pulling the blanket on top of them both. She smiled wearily at him as he pressed a light kiss to her temple and soon both were fast asleep.


End file.
